I promise
by The hazel-eyed bookworm
Summary: Sequel to Demon Child. A long time ago, he surrendered. Now, with a war threatening to burst, all Lea can think of is to fight for her brother, try to become stronger, and ignore that strange feeling when she's near Darren. But when a familiar boy shows up again, what will the Whites do?
1. In the darkness

**Sequel posted guys! R&R please!**

**Chapter one: In the darkness**

* * *

_**The hardest part of heartbreaks or even tragedies is realizing that life keeps going, even if you're not ready for it.**_

She didn't want it. Even since that fateful day, she had wanted for life to stop. Or that nightmare to end. The nine-year-old girl shivered as she walked down a corridor of the school. Lea touched the red gem she had in her neck, the only thing her brother had left her.

Her brother, Valentine.

Even if the others say it wasn't her fault, even if Rius couldn't undone the blocking charm that had been placed inside them, even if there was nothing she could do, she still blamed herself for not noticing, for thinking he was okay. It hadn't occurred to her that maybe her brother wasn't as fine as he seemed to be.

She knew there was something wrong since the basement. She saw him running like there was no tomorrow, and then freeze, his brown eyes widening in paralyzed terror. She had tried to make him get out of the place he had locked himself in. Saw him respond, saw the hot tears that instantly leaked from out of his eyes as they rapidly flowed down his flushed cheeks. One time, as their family was in the living room, she had gone upstairs and found him trapped in a nightmare. He had screamed and yelled; voice rising higher and higher in anguish at what he was seeing, before cracking slightly in a fever pitch.

Once it was over, he seemed to have just done that, though.

He gave up.

He wouldn't utter a word, he wouldn't listen to a word that anyone else was saying as their dad had tried talking to him but to no avail, and he seemed to work like a machine; only moving if prompted by another person manually. His eyes were misty and glazed – the flame that had once blazed around from within was undetectable when she herself tried to talk to him.

A few times, she could've sworn she saw that swirl of fire spark for a moment, even for a little moment when she tried to engage him in a conversation with her, and when she tried to start the fire that had once burned so brilliantly from within him. It certainly ignited the hope from within her as she tried to remind him of what he had told her. To never give up, and to keep going forward for today was a new day. Those words had always inspired her, and she tried to get him inspired by the very words he uttered as she repeated what he said.

But it didn't work.

He wouldn't listen to even her own words.

He was just that broken.

And it truly upset her to see him in such a defeated state. To see such a strong, passionate and confident person crumble into just a broken shell of the one he once was.

But what truly upset her more was that lack of communication. That pushing everyone away just by being unresponsive.

_'I'm your friend, too, right?_' she thought as she squeezed her eyes shut. _'You promised that you would tell me how you feel, and that I was that person who you'd talk to when you wanted. Why didn't you just talk to me?!_' her hand instantly formed into a tight fist as her whole body began to quiver.

She would've been happy if he yelled and screamed at her; she would've even been delighted if he broke down crying right on her shoulder – she definitely didn't mind that. She just wanted him to show that he was still functioning. She would do anything to help comfort him, make him better and show him that he wasn't alone in this cruel, twisted world.

That there was someone who loved him.

Now that she thought about it a bit more, it was unfair to be angry or demand something from him especially given his state. He certainly gave a few reactions when she tried communicating with him. However, of course the pain wouldn't go away so easily. It would take time; usually loads of it to heal away the pain. But even then, she knew that there would be scars remaining on his being over that. Maybe he was still trying to battle that despair that had swelled from within him. Or maybe he was just shutting everyone else away because he was afraid something would happen to them, and he couldn't bear that thought.

Either way, he truly just needed time.

Too bad that it wasn't on anyone's side.

He should've talked to someone, anyone. He should have accepted help.

Her brother definitely wasn't like his father, he didn't lie unless he had to. She was certain that the feelings of fondness they had and shared with another was true and real.

He was a real person.

A real person that was now gone.

And she wanted just a moment, even if small, to grieve a bit over his unexpected disappearance. Such a person who was so real and so true deserved that, right?

Sometimes, Lea knew they both felt the charm breaking for a little moment, and by the looks of it, Vale would feel her emotions, while Lea would see him. Her emotions in that case were always fear and an utter helplessness, for she saw that what he was doing was always killing him from the inside, little by little. She saw him wanting to escape, saw him fail, and they both cried themselves to sleep when they realized there was no way out. But she could still feel hope within him.

Giving another calming, deep breath, she continued walking and went downstairs, still touching the gem, as for once, a small smile had twitched at the corners of her lips.

Since when was the last time that even she of all people smiled?

No, she couldn't give up. Definitely not now. She shouldn't give up. Not for the disgusting amusement of that dreadful monster pulling the strings. She wasn't going to give up – she had to continue: for everyone that was still fighting, for everyone that had a chance…

And especially, for him.

"Hey White." Lea huffed in annoyance. Since Vale had left, Troy and his goons had made her their target. Three big boys against a littler, younger girl. Logical and all.

"What do you want Troy?"

"What is that?" he asked, snatching the red gem, breaking the tiny rope on her neck. She had to use all her willpower not to use her magic and make him pay.

"That's mine! Give it to me, my brother gave it to me!" she growled, jumping to her feet.

"Your brother? The one who left you? And you still have it? How cute." He chuckled evilly.

"I said, give it to me!" Lea lunged to him. He snatched her arm and pushed her roughly. But he didn't expect her to tumble until she reached the stairs.

She crashed and tumbled down the staircase until she came to a rest at the far end, lying still.

"Dammit, come here, she better not be dead." One of Troy's friends said rushing towards her, and shaking her.

But Lea was not moving. Troy came down the stairs and gave the girl a kick, but it only resulted in pushing Lea onto her back, her head lolling sideways. There was some blood on her temple and it had smeared the floor.

''What's wrong with her?'' Troy hissed, and the other boy shrugged his shoulders, not looking too concerned about the motionless body of the girl.

''She fell down the stairs, the stupid git, maybe she's unconscious.''

Troy looked down at Lea, biting his lip. She was breathing, if quite shallowly, but she could probably have a concussion.

"HEY!" the three boys jumped alarm as they heard Matt White's voice. "What are you doing with my sister this time?!" he frowned when they just ran away.

Jake and Diego came running and they gasped at the girl lying on the floor.

* * *

In a closed cave in a lone part of the lair, another form was lying motionless on the floor. This one was bigger, even if it was just as skinny. His long blonde hair was tangled and filthy, and, when he opened them, his eyes seemed to be dead.

The boy was a halfbreed by the name of Valentine White, although he hadn't heard that name spoken since he had arrived there. There were times he wasn't even sure if this really was his name. After all, he was expected to respond at the name 'Duncan'.

He had tucked his head between his arms, and clasped his hands over the back of his neck. He kept himself curled up protectively for another half minute or so, making sure there wasn't anyone near him. That self-defense position had been engraved deep down in his mind, after his first and only beating, when he had just arrived there. He had taken it when it became sure his father wouldn't listen to his screams, begging for him to stop, for it to _end_. He'd ended up spitting and shitting blood when he'd taken a few too many hits below his ribcage.

That experience had been so horribly painful that he had obeyed his father without complain for a long time...

Gradually, after he regained his senses from the beating enough to hear the lack of breathing around him, he uncurled himself and sat gingerly up.

Inspecting his hands, he found that at some point one of the kicks had split the skin on his right hand while slamming it up against his head.

He tried to stand, found out that he couldn't, and crawled, his head feeling as though it were trying to go three ways at once. He found himself wishing that he hadn't woken up at all. He touched what must be rocks surrounding him everywhere.

The most remarkable thing about where he was, was himself, and the bloodstains he was leaving on the ground. Again.

And he was alone in that little hole.

Again.

As he began to panic like always, he accidentally breathed a little flame, illuminating the cave. He did it again, trying to ignore the place he was in, trying to forget it all. How embarrassing it was that he still couldn't overcome that phobia?

He redirected the flames near him. God, he was cold. It was useless, he thought with a shiver. Even since he arrived there, he had been cold. Always cold, to the point that been able to breathe fire when he felt like this was almost laughable.

One would say he had become used to it, he had felt that way for…how long? Weeks? Months? He wasn't sure. Time became kind of unimportant in a place like this, where the only space of time that mattered was eternity.

He continued trying to keep himself warm, careful to not to make too much noise. He was already on thin ice with his father because lately he had been doing –and quoting- _pathetically_ in his training. He didn't know what was wrong with him; the pain in his back distracted him and prevented him of doing better. The flame he was doing came interrupted as he stuttered. If what Belloc had said was true and he would train with others Kaiju, he was sure if he continued like this he wouldn't survive the first round.

He stretched and felt that pain increase. He only remembered a pain on his back much stronger. He still had the scars, it had been when he was still with the Whi…

There was a sudden pain in the boy's chest which was different from all the pain he had experienced in the lair. This pain was fresh, almost physical, as if all of a sudden blood was pumping again through his cold and shriveled heart.

Completely drained from the pain and his firebreath, the boy fell into an uneasy sleep. His nightmares were so recurring, they were almost like old acquaintances. Unloved acquaintances, but acquaintances nonetheless.

_There was the towering form of his father above him, while he was lying on the floor. He remembered that, it was the first –and only- time he had tried to escape, like he had done before, but he wasn't that lucky. Belloc had caught him before he could even reach the dead end. His face was a mask of cold fury as the boy felt a change in the air, knowing that he wouldn't escape unharmed of this one. A muttered spell proved his point. Searing hot pain shot through every nerve he possessed, almost blinding him. And the cold eyes of his father, that looked at his screaming son without a flicker of remorse or pity._

_But then something changed. Something that had never happened before. The image changed, and he found himself staring at what he knew was the first time he had seen his sister._

_It had been when he was four, and Matt five, both staring with wonder at the bundle in their Mom's arms. Their little sister. Looking at the little baby girl, a feeling rose in his chest, that seemed to press against its confines, as if it was too big to be held there. He didn't know what was wrong with him! He was a big boy, and he wouldn't cry…_

_He walked up the steps to their parents and little Lea. And then his Mom placed the little bundle in his arms, and he looked down at this astounding new person, with her tiny hands and her tiny feet and the little button of a nose. She had the softest down of red hair gracing her little head._

_And then Lea opened his eyes, green as the hills, and looked at her brother and his heart stopped. In this second the boy was lost forever and a love more fiercely than he had ever known erupted in him._

_He smiled and looked in the bright eyes of his sister, and then he bowed his head and made a whispered promise._

_"In the darkness, holding on by a thread, I will come for you. Don't be afraid. You can trust me... because I've always known you and nothing will harm you. I will fight all your monsters and shield you from foes. I will hold you and always care for you. We belong now. And I will be there to make you laugh and dry all your tears. Because I love you... Believe me, I won't let you down! I'll be by your side, whatever may come. Nothing will stop me! And I will protect you with my life... this I promise."_

_All the happiness he remembered feeling vanished along with the image…_

_And then all he saw was the crumbled form of a small girl with red-blonde hair as she lay motionless on the floor, blood dripping from her temple._

The boy woke up with a sharp intake of breath, and sat bolt upright, the last image lingering in his mind as clearly as if it was in front of him. For the first time in forever, he felt warmth from his golden spot for a second.

''Lea." he whispered.

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**That's...all for now. Okay, read, PM, review and spread the word.**


	2. Holding on by a thread

**Five reviews in the first chapter! WHOA!**

**Okay this is not as good because I have been with writer's block, but enjoy it.**

**Chapter one: Holding on by a thread**

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_**We are twice armed if we fight with faith.**_

When the boy woke from his dream he was frantic. His heart was hammering in his chest. Before his inner eye he saw the small slumped form from his dream. He would never forgive himself if he stayed there while Lea was hurting.

He was desperate. He needed to help Lea and he didn't know how. His heart was aching when he thought of the little girl in the clutches of the vile bullies, so small and so helpless... None of those were happy thoughts. They gave him a desperation he had never felt before. Probably that's why his father hadn't notice; he was locked in, desperate like always.

He didn't belong here... He had not committed any crime to be locked there, even if the oncoming war was ultimately his fault. And he had made a promise. A promise he wasn't keeping by sitting in the lair.

With desperation came determination. He would not be the reason Lea suffered. And if he had to do what would surely give him a painful lesson if discovered, he would. He would go out of this place and he would find Lea. Or he would die trying. Not because he didn't deserve to be here. But because he was needed somewhere else. Because Lea needed him.

* * *

Scanning the hallway of the school, two grey eyes narrowed in confusion. Where were them? Surely nothing could've happened to them, could it?

He looked everywhere, but couldn't find neither Matt nor Lea. Judging by the way that quite a lot students were whispering to each other, something was gravely wrong. As he approached to his friends, he caught their scents. No doubts now.

"What's up?" he asked

Judging by the looks of their faces, something bad had happened.

"Before I tell you, you might need to sit." Maia said.

And tell him she did. Apparently yesterday, Lea had been pushed down the stairs by Troy, giving her a concussion. Matt and his friends had found her, and Troy had been suspended for three days. At the moment, the whole family was in the hospital, since Lea had yet to wake up.

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DARREN'S POV

I watch her every day... I look at her, I see how she withers, how the green fire in her eyes is going out. Little by little, she goes out. She wilts. She dies.

She's not dying, yet she is. Her hope is giving way to despair. And I can not let that happen, but what I can do?

I should have protected her. The thought that someone could hurt Lea was the straw that broke the camel.

"Okay…" I trailed off. "Someone will kill him, or shall I do it?"

They thought I spoke out of anger. How wrong they were.

* * *

NORMAL POV

'Know' and 'Can' aren't synonyms. But they could be. If you know how to do something, you can do it.

So that's why he wasn't heading towards his home when school was over. He didn't know where Troy lived, but Darren could still trace his scent. Did he know how to beat up a person? Yes. Would he do it? DEFINITELY YES.

He had to protect her; someone had to do it while Valentine wasn't available. The mere thought of his friend saddened him. Every day, he thought about the last talk they had had.

…was it even possible that his own words were the cause that he had left?

As a child, he thought of himself useless. Eventually, he became convinced, now he has no doubt. HE WAS GOOD FOR NOTHING.

He should have protected her, even if he knew no one would replace Vale. Lea still missed him with all her heart.

FLASHBACK

_He knew Vale's absence affected Lea terribly, but he didn't know to what extent. So there they were, a few months after Vale had left, in one of the breaks of school, he, Matt, Lea, and one of Lea's friends, Kiara_

_"Besides, Santa Claus isn't magical or anything." Lea was saying matter-of-factly_

_"She says that because Santa hasn't brought her what she requested." Chipped up Kiara. "Maybe it was expensive, because Mom says that Santa doesn't bring expensive things, because he does magic, not miracles." Lea looked at her_

_"What I had asked doesn't cost money, I only asked for Vale to come home and that nothing had happened to him." Darren nearly choked and Matt stiffened_

_"I think that does not work that way, Le." said Matt sadly. For that day, Darren knew what Lea asked for every birthday, every Christmas, she only wanted her brother._

_"You have to ask for two things, because if he does not bring you the first thing, he brings you the second." Kiara said, obviously trying to cheer her up. Lea was thoughtful for a moment_

_"Another thing..." she mused. "I do not want anything to happen to any of you. That is valid, right?"_

_"I don't want it either." Darren thought. "But if it happens, I'll do something about it."_

_END FLASHBACK_

And that was exactly what he was doing.

The track led him up to what he supposed would be Troy's house. Still trailing the scent, he sidled round a house to the backyard, and hid behind a wall, where Troy with some boys. But then he heard it.

''Yeah, I hit the little shit and she fell like a ragged doll. She attacked me because she wanted this."

And then Darren saw a very familiar gem in Troy's hand. He had hurt an innocent person, a friend of his, and now he was _mocking_ her. And, he had stolen the only thing Valentine had left her.

Of course, you can't do something perfectly with just 'know' and 'can'. There's also 'need'. Sometimes, necessity turns you incredibly powerful. He needed to avenge Lea.

There was no rational thought left in Darren's brain, only outrage and seething fury.

* * *

If he did it once, he could do it twice. That is, if he managed to survive whatever test his father had thought for him.

As he stepped in the sunlight, the boy walked towards the end of the cliff and closed his eyes, breathing slowly. He still tried to control the pain of his back, but on the other hand, he was also pleased.

_"What are you doing?"_ came the impatient voice of his father.

_"I missed this."_ He explained. _"The air, the heat, the light..."_

_"If you don't want to go back to the shadows, move."_

"_Why do I ha…"_ he trailed off when he saw exactly what was waiting for him down the cliff.

_"…Oh_." He finished in a shaky voice. He didn't think he would be facing a Kaiju so soon. He took a step back at the same time he noticed the magic being used. He prepared himself for the pain, but it wasn't being used inside him. It was being used beneath him.

He opened his eyes wide as the ground under him cracked open, making him plummet towards what he knew would be his downfall.

* * *

Troy was watching his friends go, satisfied with the way he told the story, when there was suddenly a loud growl just behind him. He wiped around. In his backyard stood one of his classmates, one of the few that could put up a fight against him. But what made Troy's breath catch in his throat and his heart stop just for a moment, were Darren's furiously blazing eyes. They were the eyes of a murderer, a madman.

"Let's get this over with, shall we?" Darren hissed lowly, unable to resist any longer. Troy was surprised when the sprinklers started functioning all at once.

"So, would you rather have your black eye on the left or the right?" Darren smirked. This was gonna be _fun_.

* * *

Rîus was running as fast as he could. He knew he had reason to be worried. Just thinking what could have happened to Darren to not to come home, that he had not been there when he was supposed to be, filled him with icy fear.

Normally he trusted his nephew, and didn't mind him coming late, but these were dangerous times. Maybe Darren hadn't noticed, but he did. He had seen some guys' with glowing eyes, the first ones in years. And Rîus knew what they were, being one himself. The news were always of mysterious accidents, strange 'animal attacks' (Rîus had to resist the urge to growl at this one) to cut it short, murdering of any kind, people went missing, and some people had started to realize something weird was going on.

He didn't know why they were doing this, surely when the war take place they would be murdering people as well, wouldn't they? Was to spread collective hysteria, to have humans more concentrated for what happened inside their society? Rîus didn't know, but the fact that Darren was well-know because of being with the King three years ago, an Outsider, with all this surrounding him, made his protective uncle side come to life.

Trailing his nephew's scent, Rîus jumped to a backyard of a house. But what he saw was the complete opposite of what he expected to see.

"Hey Uncle." Darren greeted him with a smile. Behind him was a human boy lying motionless.

* * *

**How do you think Rius will react to this?**

**That's...all for now. Okay, read, PM, review and spread the word.**


	3. I will come for you

**Five reviews in the first chapter, and just TWO in the second?! Huh, my bad.**

**Hope you enjoy this**

**Chapter two: I will come for you**

* * *

**_I am not going to die, I'm going home like a shooting star._**

_Modesty aside, I did a good job_, thought Darren as he stood up. He had been looking forwards to a fight like that for a long time. A tensed air was what Darren felt every time he saw the news on TV, and he knew who they were. He had wanted to come across one to fight a little, but this opportunity was as good as any other, plus the added bonus of the circumstances.

He had let his bloodlust take over for a while, but he didn't kill him. It would be too easy and too boring. Also when he awakes, who would believe what happened? Besides, it was his way of helping the Whites. Over and over and over he had offered to go to the lair and try to rescue his missing friend, but was always met with a no. True, he didn't know how a Heisha could enter the lair, but besides that and the zero-tolerance the majority of the Kaiju had with Outsiders, he could do it, right?

He was about to drag Troy to a secluded area, so it would seem like another near-fatal attack, when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around and greeted him with a smile.

"Hey Uncle."

Rîus stared at him for a second, then his eyes trailed to Troy's immobile body, then back at him.

"Darren Dyllon Wakeman, what the HELL DID YOU DO?!"

Darren blinked, surprised at his uncle's reaction. "I don't see why you're so upset—"

"Upset!" exploded Rîus. "I'm well past that! Did it even occur to you that things are dangerous this times? No! Instead you turn into an executioner and beat him to death. He was defenseless!" He was outraged when Darren interrupted him with a chuckle.

"So that's what this is about…I didn't kill him." Rîus felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders. "I wanted to, but it wouldn't have changed anything."

Rîus stared at him some more and then walked towards Troy and lifted him up.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm fishing. What does it looks like I'm doing?" Rîus deadpanned. "Go home and wait for me there. I prefer having this conversation in somewhere more private."

"_Of course, disappearing with the one spell I don't know about. At least he doesn't know about torri_." He grumbled, before using it.

He honestly didn't understand what he had done wrong. But when Rius came back after dumping Troy in another area, it was clear that something he had done. Darren squirmed under his uncle's silent gaze. He wasn't used to his uncle being that way, just what he had done wrongly?

"I didn't kill him, Rîus. Even if I did, what would be the problem?" he asked. That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. Darren was taked aback when he saw the look on his uncle's face. It was one he didn't expect to see at all.

"The _problem_, as you dismissed it, is that you almost killed him." "Do you actually want someone's blood on your hands? Not just that, you did magic unintentionally. That kind of things leaves a scent in the air. If someone had traced it…if someone had discovered you…"

"I would have fought them." Darren promptly replied.

"I see, I see. But what if you couldn't? What if they were too many? You could've been killed for your recklessness, or you could even have the war start earlier. And if it did happen, the two races would go at it worse than cats and dogs!" Rîus finished coldly. Darren had held his hands up in defense.

"Now you're overreacting…"

"Oh really? I am overreacting? But it could happen, Dyllon, don't tell me it couldn't." he sighed as he paced back and forth. "I can't believe it," he mumbled almost to himself. "You know I have nothing against you to go and pick up some fights, but this is just over the top! I…you…" he struggled to form words as Darren just stared at him, but he seemed to be understanding just what he could have truly done. "No human language can describe the disappointment I'm feeling right now." Darren flinched at that.

"That jerk gave Lea a concussion, uncle! If you think I was going to sit there and do nothing, you're wrong!" Darren said hotly. "I can help them, if they just let me try…" Rîus stopped and looked at him.

"Well, I think you went too far into trying to help her." The same old argument. "Seems to me, seems to me that the conceited, proud and poorly evolved one, it's you. What is this lament? This self-pity? Poor me I want to help and they don't let me. Do you want a book of complaints? There isn't. I'm sick of your complaints, there's nothing you can do."

* * *

As he fell towards it, the only thought he had was "_Oh God, oh God, I'm gonna die_."

But no. He had to make it. He needed to. Next thing he knew, he had transformed. A bit of an advantage, but not much.

He stuck his fists out making direct and forceful contact with the Kaiju's chest bringing them both down. The Kaiju looked at the boy and smacked him off of its chest sending him flying into a nearby rock. It stood as he peeled himself out of the rock.

My God, that had _hurt_. His eyes narrowed as he ran towards the Kaiju.

_"At least, if I die, I'll be defending myself."_

It picked him up and he managed to grab hold of one of its fingers and wiggle out of its grip, pulling the Kaiju's finger with him. He forcefully pulled the Kaiju's finger causing and audible cracking sound as the enormous finger broke. The Kaiju roared in pain as the boy slipped to the ground in search of a weapon.

He was tired already and didn't seem to be strong enough, even in Kaiju form. He noticed with annoyance that the pain on his back was coming back full force. What did that mean?

Enraged, the Kaiju took to throwing boulders, which narrowly missed their target. He had to do this, he had to survive this, he had made a promise, he had to…

"You can do better than that! Kill him!" Belloc bellowed from the background watching him.

"_I find it difficult enough without your comments!"_ he shot right back. He knew this was a lost battle. There was no end in sight to his ordeal and he was so tired... but what else could he do than try?

BAM

He was jerked out of his thoughts by a boulder reaching him, sending him to a rock again. He managed to get up and took a deep breath to try to, at least, stop the Kaiju with his firebreath, but suddenly doubled over in pain. His back was on fire, the pain made his knees buckle and his eyes go wide.

"_Wha-what are you d-doing?! S-Stop_!" he gasped. But somehow he knew whatever was happening to him wasn't a spell.

BOOM

The head of the Kaiju exploded spraying a green tinted substance everywhere. The boy's eyes widened as he saw the huge mole collapsing to the ground. Still on his knees, he looked to his side and saw an army of –what he could only guess- MEGTAF agents lined with various assortments of weapons.

Pain flared up his back again. What was happening? Were the scars reopening?

He lifted his gaze to who seemed to be the leader of the army, and couldn't help but smirk a bit at the one who was holding a rocket launcher. "_Blitz, it has been a while_."

His mind went blank as the pain again overcame his senses. When most of it was gone, he stood up. He felt…different. He almost had a heart attack when he noticed just what was different. _"No way,"_

Just between his shoulder blades, two red wings were sticking out of each side of him. He couldn't help but notice something was wrong with them. He didn't know a lot about wings, but he thought they were shaped wrongly and were fragile-looking. What could have happened to his wings to form like that?

"_When I was with the Whites, Belloc hurt me. And that cracking sound maybe were my wings, not the bones of my back_." He realized.

He jumped at the sight that met his eyes when he could take them off his new members. Belloc was breathing fire towards the agents causing many tanks to explode and some agents to scatter.

The boy flinched. He couldn't ever recall seeing Belloc so full of murderous intent. He froze on the spot as he watched the battle in front of him, unsure of what to do. If Belloc won the battle, he'd have to stay there or everything might go to hell and everyone he cared about would die. As weak as he was, he was still at Belloc's mercy.

…but he didn't seem to be paying him any attention.

It was obvious that _they_ were too much into the battle to pay him any attention, not that he wanted them noticing him. The rush of adrenaline was gone and he changed back to normal.

He glanced between the battle and his wings.

He knew if there was a way, this was it. He didn't stop to calculate the chances. It was all or nothing, and he had nothing left to lose anymore. He knew the chances were slim, he knew his wings may be weak; he knew it was crazy, but maybe it could work. Determination was filling him up, burning, not like warmth, not even like fire, more like acid.

He had to hurry, every minute he lose was precious. No, all that stretched between him and Lea now was the desert itself and the battle there was at the moment.

The city seemed to be nothing more than a faint line on the horizon. Maybe it was nothing more than an illusion. Maybe the agents would notice him and start shooting at him –even if they should concentrate in the huge monster-. But the boy didn't hesitate. He tried to set off, but he didn't seem to have enough strength to do that. He had to fly, he had wings for a reason. He thought about his parents, about Matt, about Lea. He couldn't stay there. He didn't want to.

He gave a powerful flap and he finally was up in the air. He flew with the same determination that had brought him this far. He flapped his wings and he struggled and he fought. Some of the agents had stopped firing to look at him and he heard Blitz saying not to shoot him, and he didn't give up. He wouldn't. He needed to get to the city if it was the last thing he ever did. He had a promise to keep. He had to make it.

Flapping his wings required of quite an effort, but no matter how tired he was, he didn't stop. Going on foot would make him slower; he couldn't –wouldn't- stop.

_"If I stop now, everything is bollixed up. Maybe MEGTAF will find me, or worse, Belloc will get me and everyone will die and it will be all my fault. I've got to get through this. MEGTAF may distract him long enough anyways. I just have to get through this."_

The boy didn't know when the struggle became too tiring. When his limbs became too heavy. He wouldn't give up... he could see it... he was almost there. Just a bit more of desert and he would be there. His wings ached and he fought to stay in the air.

Finally it was too much and, as he fell to the ground, his last thought was that he had failed.

Then all there was, was blackness.

* * *

**Dun dun DUUUUN**

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	4. To keep going

**Hey everyone! Sorry it took me so long but here it is!**

**Chapter three: To keep going.**

* * *

**_You simply have to put one foot in front of the other and keep going._**

The next thing he knew, he was lying on his back with a burning sensation in his left wrist. He didn't open his eyes, instead he tried to discover where he was. First of all, he was lying on something way softer than the rocks that he had to accustom for all that time. He tried not to move an inch as he breathed in an out…in and out…

He wasn't alone. There were two people with him in that room. The boy snapped his eyes open and sat up too quickly: Lights popped in front of his eyes, his arm burned and he felt sick and giddy. He looked down and saw that his left arm was splinted. "Who did…?" he thought

"Ah, you're awake," a feminine voice said. His eyes came back into focus and he turned towards the owner of the voice. It was a tanned-skinned girl who looked about thirteen. She had brown hair pulled in a ponytail, and brown eyes stared down at him. He wasn't done watching her when she extended her hand.

"I'm Isabel. Are you okay?" the boy was about to ask something when the girl, Isabel, quickly started talking again, nervously. "Well, you obviously aren't okay… Oh, be careful, you have your radius fractured, and if you move too much it will…" he tried to stand up, but pain flared up his wrist, making him gasp. "…hurt you." Isabel finished. "I should have warned you two seconds ago, shouldn't I?"

"Yeah, it would've been nice," he answered, observing his surroundings. He seemed to be sitting on a sofa in a trailer, complete with a small kitchen and a door connecting to another room. "You took me here?" he asked, thanking to God his good luck. Instead of being found by Belloc or MEGTAF, a girl apparently brought him to her home. "Wait, did she carry me all the way here all on her own?" he thought a bit shocked. Isabel didn't seem to be very strong.

"We did," came another voice behind them. He turned around and saw a pale boy, with black hair and grey eyes walking towards him from another door.

"Who are you?" the fair-haired boy asked.

"Um…Ken. Kenny Rogers, and you are…?" he left the sentence hanging.

The boy opened his mouth and closed it again, unsure of what to respond. What was his name? Who was he? Was he Valentine or Duncan? Was he the victim or the victimizer? Was he human or Kaiju? Was he the wolf or the lamb? Which one was he? Was he one? Was he all? Or he wasn't any of them?

Deep down, he knew the answer. He smiled a bit at the others.

"Valentine. I am Valentine."

* * *

Anger boiling through his veins, Matthew White leaned against the wall of his room with a sigh.

It was **_unbelievable_**. Un-believable. That jerk had almost **killed** her. Well, not really, but still. A concussion, multiple broken ribs, cracked forearm, and a broken femur. And she had still to wake up.

If only Jake hadn't alerted the teachers, he'd have beaten those gits to a pulp, he'd have make them suffer, he'd…he'd…

His breath got caught in his throat and he slumped onto his bed, closing his eyes. He couldn't shake off his head the image of his baby sister in that hospital, still, white, cold… He should've done something…anything! And now that son of a bitch was roaming around the town leaving with just a suspension of THREE FREAKING DAYS! Matt opened his eyes, rolled on his bed and stared at the one in front of him through black locks.

"You would have beaten those guys to death, wouldn't you?" he asked to the bed.

Matt always found it strange that he talked to that bed sometimes. Vale had always slept besides him, and even now, at fourteen years of age, Matt continued going to sleep knowing something felt wrong. Off. He should still be there, chatting with him until it was very late. Or maybe Lea would still go to his bed, and Matt would wake and smile at the sight, because it had always been that way. It should always be that way.

He talks to it because it was a part of him. And that was better than nothing, he supposed. He sleeps beside it. And sometimes, when he was specially sick or tired or sad or lonely or just plain angry. He know it's crazy. He didn't mean to do it at first, the words just slipped out sometimes. But he started doing it consciously, to have practice, to be able to tell him all the things he'd wanted to when he gets back. Matt crushed viciously the thought of _'if he gets back'_.

"Look, I know you probably don't have a saying in that matter, Vale, but you need to get back here. Lea has been hurt, badly. I tried to stop them, for real, but…well…you're her guardian angel, not me. Try to do it for her, for Le, okay? Or for me! I miss you too, little brother, we all do. I have talked about this many times, but…the letter you left…how could we ever hate you! Make sure you get back soon, Vale. You can heal her, you'll come back soon..." Matt finished. He always felt better after pouring his feeling into that bed. It wasn't anything like Vale or Lea, but it was better than nothing.

"I know you will…" he whispered.

Matt's moment was cut short when his cellphone rang. He slowly picked it up.

"I heard what happened to Lea." Darren's voice exclaimed through it.

"Yeah, thank you for nothing, you useless reptile." Matt growled, his anger back. "I suppose you at least punched one of them?"

The silence confused Matt, but a few seconds later he could hear a very creepy laugh coming through.

"Don't worry," the teen Kaiju said in a way Matt could almost see the slasher smile on his face. "They won't bother her anymore." Again with that laugh. Matt didn't know if he should feel anticipation or fear of Darren's tone of voice.

"What did you do to them?" Matt asked hurriedly.

After the tale, Matthew White was completely sure of one thing: the Kaiju boy may be not so bad after all.

* * *

"We found you passed out near Ken's house, Valentine. I thought you'd been attacked. It's almost a common occurrence." Isabel trailed off.

"How so?" Vale asked, confused. Being attacked was a common occurrence?

"Haven't you heard? A couple of months ago people started going missing…"

"Or simply die, mauled or beaten to death, always in places one wouldn't find them by chance." Kenny added.

"But back to the point, why were you there?" Isabel asked. Vale shifted uncomfortably. What could he tell them? He couldn't, obviously, tell them the truth…or could he?

"I was running away…" he muttered, evading making eye contact with any of them. He decided to use one of Belloc's tactics. He would tell them the truth. He just wouldn't tell them all of it. "My father and I don't…let's say get along." he shrugged. Vale moved his good hand across his left leg, tracing the places where some scars had faded, and some which contrasted against his skin. He briefly wondered if a kid in his situation would say everything so readily, but quickly dismissed that thought. As soon as he left that house he'd continue walking till he reached the city. He had no time to waste.

"He wouldn't really do that?" Isabel asked, horrorstruck, catching the implication.

The way that boy spoke, casual, matter-of-factly, caught both Kenny and Isabel off ward. It was like that kind of treatment had been accepted for so long that he had learned not only to accept it but to expect it. Was it possible that the boy didn't even understand how wrong that was? Obviously he knew it wasn't normal or right, but he seemed to just accept that that was how his father treated him. Did he not understand how horrible it really was? Did he know – beyond the shadow of a doubt – that he didn't deserve that?

Vale sighed.

"That's why I need to leave, okay? The farther away I'm from him, the better." This also wasn't a lie, technically.

"What? You need to rest! You have a broken wrist! At least you could see a doctor or something!" Man, this girl is insistent, Vale thought with a roll of his eyes.

"Are you actually gonna keep me here against my will? I know seven ways of getting out of a room that I'm sure you don't know about."

It had taken him a lot of time, but he had eventually succeeding on freeing himself from the prison-like cave he was most of the time in, the first time he had tried to escape. Of course, he had been caught for trying to escape in the same fashion that his very first one. Looking back, he really should have been more careful, but he wasn't thinking straight. He dreaded it, to sit in the dark without the hope of being released soon, and with urgent needs not knowing the time when somebody would let him out...

Hours in an empty room, not being able to count the passing hours when every second seemed half an hour… knowing full well that his savior would be his tormentor…

"Just where are you going to go when you leave?" Kenny asked, seemingly without realize the hard look Isabel gave him. Ken was staring at Vale as if he had turned into a gory war image. He could not believe that he had been turned into a prisoner –a literal prisoner. It was completely… he couldn't even find a word to fit it.

"I know a place where he won't find me." Vale reassured him. Those kids seemed good people, but he couldn't stay there. "Now, thanks for helping me and all, but I really, really have to go."

"Please!" the girl said, "We want to help you!"

"You can't!" Vale growled back. He had to go; he had to go to his sister. He stood up and started walking towards the door.

"Will you just listen?" Isabel moved in front of him. Vale looked at Kenny, who raised his hands in defense.

"Hey, when Isabel has something decided, there's nothing you can do. Besides, you're pretty battered, mate."

_"She's strong! And scary...I bet she's single...I'd put money on it..."_ Vale thought a bit amused. Out of the blue his legs gave up, making him fall to his knees on the floor. Isabel tried reaching him.

"Leave me alone!" It came out louder that he had intended to…and it came with flames, something that he didn't intend to happen. At all.

Vale felt his mind going numb. Kenny had gone very pale. Isabel's mouth was open and her eyes were huge. Oh God. He had...he really had...

It seems like he would have to stay there for a while after all.

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